


Through The Shallows

by Anonymous



Series: 30 Days of Writing [24]
Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Canon Era, Friendship, Gen, Hopeful Ending, Insecurity, Light Angst, M/M, One Shot, Secret Relationship, Sickfic, Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-26
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-03-09 13:08:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13482138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Something's not right in Brooklyn





	Through The Shallows

**Author's Note:**

> Day #24: Sick

The pier was silent when Race finally made his way down there. Distracted by the horses, Race lost track of the time, leaving him to run to the docks in a panic. There was important business to discuss and Spot didn’t like to be kept waiting. 

Race glanced at the few faces that greeted him, younger newsies drifting amongst the crates and he sat to make himself smaller. 

“Where’s Spot?” He asked as curious eyes stared at him. 

Taking another look around, Race realized no one there was even close to his age. If Spot’s older newsies were gone, something was wrong and a pit grew in his stomach. 

“Spot’s at the lodging house,” a little girl piped up. “Won’t let anyone come into his room. He’s been there for a coupla' days now.”

When Race shot up, the young newsies jumped back and he let his shoulders drop, holding his hand out to show he meant no harm. 

“Just worried about him is all,” Race reassured the children and the girl from earlier nodded, motioning for Race to follow. 

While he knew the way by heart, he trailed behind the girl as the rest of the young newsies walked as close to him as they dared. Race smiled a little at what he must’ve looked like, surrounded by so many children staring up at him in awe. So much of his time was spent with Spot alone, he hadn’t gotten the chance to really know all of Brooklyn’s newsies. 

Once inside the lodging house, Race nodded to the older newsies, pursing his lips when they cleared a path for him. 

“If you can’t get in, we’s sending you back to Manhattan.”

Race nodded at Spot’s second hand - Silver - and he knocked on the door, making sure his voice sounded through the thick wood. 

“Spot, it’s Racetrack.”

Race could feel all eyes on him as muttered swears were heard on the other side, the clattering of some objects before the door opened just a crack. A hand reached through and Race was tugged in, the lock a firm click behind him. 

“You look terrible,” Race frowned, Spot’s hand twisted tightly in his shirt.

“ ‘m fine,” Spot mumbled, burying his face in his arm as a rough cough left him. 

Rolling his eyes, Race pushed Spot back to his bed, still needing to use all of his might. Even sickness didn’t seem to impede Spot’s strength and Spot stumbled onto the bed, his head almost hitting the wall. 

“You really didn’t want your newsies seeing you sick?” Race asked in disbelief, searching around the room for something to cool down Spot with. 

Spot’s hands were clammy, his face beet red, and just sitting next to him, Race could feel the heat radiating off of Spot. However, it seemed as if Spot had thought one step ahead, a bucket with a washcloth already by the bed. 

Urging Spot to lay down on his back, Race held his hand on Spot’s chest to keep him there as he wrangled the washcloth with one hand. 

“Gotta keep up an image,” Spot muttered, his eyes fluttering when Race held the damp cloth to his forehead.

“We all get sick,” Race shook his head. “They know you’re not invincible.”

Spot grumbled in response, turning his head away from Race. 

The matter was, Spot didn’t want his newsies seeing him weak in any way. Race had him pegged from the start, but never brought it up after the first time months ago. Coming back from Brooklyn with a bleeding nose had the Manhattan newsies up in arms and it took days for Race to convince them that it was his own fault. 

It didn’t stop Race from speaking his mind however. In vague shrugs, sarcastic comments, Race dug under Spot’s skin, but besides the famous glare, Spot never did punch Race again. Maybe it was the change of seasons that brought with it this other side of Spot. Then again, Race had managed to gain the favor of Spot in a way no other newsie had.

Running the cloth along Spot’s neck, Race watched the rise and fall of Spot’s chest. Their hands were side by side now and Race pretended to look away as he dipped the cloth back in the water. Out of the corner of his eye, Spot’s fingers trailed closer until they brushed against the back of Race’s hand, both jumping with the stutter of Spot’s breathing. 

Coughs wracked Spot’s body as he curled into himself, but his hand held tightly onto Race’s, squeezing until Race was sure he had lost feeling in his own hand. Rubbing Spot’s back, Race eased him into a side position as his coughs subsided, a low rumble the final cue. 

“You need a doctor,” Race sighed. 

None of them could afford it, but without medicine, Spot wouldn’t be getting better any time soon. Race had seen this enough times to know when simple remedies weren’t working. 

“No.” 

Spot released Race’s hand then and Race drummed his fingers on his leg. If he told the Brooklyn newsies about Spot’s condition, he could risk everything. The newsies would chip in all their hard-earned wages and when Spot would find out the truth, Race knew he’d be lucky to even get close to the bridge. 

This was a chance Race was willing to take. None of his fears were worth losing Spot to death itself and he gave Spot’s arm a squeeze before he left the room. Once in the hallway, Race swallowed at the sight of what felt like every Brooklyn newsie staring him down. Some were confused, others scared, but most were waiting. 

Motioning to Silver, Race led her down the stairs until all the newsies were out of Spot’s hearing.

“He needs a doctor or he’ll die,” Race stated simply, gauging the expressions of everyone he could see. 

With her shoulders dropping, Silver nodded her understanding and dug into her pockets, counting her change. A wave spread through the other newsies, Race watching as everyone started sorting their money. Collecting it all together in a hat, Race helped the girl count through the coins, his heart swelling at the generosity of Spot’s newsies. 

More than enough had been collected, but when Race tried to give some of it back, every newsie shook their head. 

“We need Spot,” a younger one answered for everyone. 

After placing another newsie in charge, Silver and Race headed into the busy Brooklyn streets, the words from before lingering in Race’s mind. As a carriage passed by, Race couldn’t help but find it unfair that even with Spot on the verge of death, the world kept going about its business.

While they walked, Silver kept an idle conversation and Race was thankful for her support, not realizing how much he needed it until now. He had only guessed why Spot trusted her so much and with each step, Race was starting to see why. 

When they arrived at the hospital, Silver spoke to the staff and it wasn’t long before they were on their way back to the lodging house, doctor in tow. Race had expected at least a day’s wait, but Silver must have weaved her words to make a convincing story. 

Once they reached Spot’s door, Race hesitated. He’d seen Spot’s fury at an uninvited guest one time or another. Sighing, Silver pushed Race out of the way and allowed the doctor in, the two wincing when they heard Spot’s “What?!” ring loud and clear despite his raw throat. 

“You need a doctor,” Silver crossed her arms as the doctor set up his supplies with only a raised eyebrow. 

Race stood next to her, shrugging when Spot glared at him, but to their surprise, Spot fell back on the bed and did as the doctor instructed. 

What felt like eons later, the doctor had a diagnosis and Race’s stomach dropped. He’d seen scarlet fever plenty of times, having survived a bout of it when he just started selling newspapers. If Spot hadn’t passed through the worst of it yet, Race didn’t want to leave his side. 

Listening intently to everything the doctor said, Race and Silver nodded their understanding, and Race took the medicine, the bottle heavy in his hand. As soon as the doctor left, Race sat at Spot’s side, his mouth unable to form the words his mind was rushing through.

“I’ll send a messenger to Manhattan,” Silver spoke gently as Race went back to the water bucket. 

Giving her a grateful smile, Race watched her go, wishing he could say something to ease her worries. He’d do so once Spot fell asleep and Race turned back to Spot, letting out a small sigh.

“Not gonna die, you know,” Spot mumbled, his eyes remaining closed. “What would you do without me?”

Race allowed himself to crack a smile, intertwining his and Spot’s hands together. When Spot squeezed his hand in return, Race’s stomach flipped, his thoughts straying for just a moment. 

He and Spot had held hands before, but right now, it was confiding and gentle. They didn’t need to hide their loyalty, there was no doubt in what was theirs. 

Spot’s weakened cough brought Race back to his tending and, out of habit, he glanced around the room before he leaned down, placing a small kiss on Spot’s cheek. 

“Sap,” Spot managed to grin and Race brushed some of the hair away from his forehead. 

“Just for you.”

As dusk set upon them, Race left Spot’s side just once to find him some bread and water. The lodging house was almost too quiet, but Race didn’t bother to question it. Upon his arrival back at Spot’s room, he saw a small cot set up for him in the corner and he checked the leftover change in his pocket to thank Silver with. 

Settling in for the night, Race pulled the cot over to Spot’s bed, whispering a small good night as he laid close to him. With Spot turning on his side, his eyes opening just a little to look at Race, it seemed as if Spot would stay true to his word and Race reached out to him, ready with a promise of his own.

**Author's Note:**

> man now i gotta write a story where race is sick
> 
>  
> 
> [Tumblr](http://safarikalamari.tumblr.com)


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